


The Greater Good

by unbottledchaos



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: AU Dystopian, Angst, Bisexual Female Character, Blood and Injury, Child Abuse, Clumsy geralt, F/F, F/M, Genocide, Magic, Most definitely smut, Multi, Rough Sex, Self-Worth Issues, Sisters, Slow Burn, Smut, Soft Geralt, a pining jaskier, adding more tags as the story goes, grandma yennefer...adorable, sexual tension galore, using alcohol to numb, using sex to numb
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:48:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27490729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unbottledchaos/pseuds/unbottledchaos
Summary: Nilfgaard has taken complete control over the Continent. Mages are a dying breed, especially since Aretuza fell centuries ago. Geralt and Jaskier stumble upon a house of mages seeking help for Geralt's injury. By chance, the home belongs to Juniper, adopted granddaugther to Yennefer and step sister to Ciri. Together, they decide to fight for the greater good and take down Nilfgaard.
Relationships: Bisexual - Relationship, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon/Original Female Character(s), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Original Female Character(s), Triss Merigold/Original Female Character(s), Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. A Time and Place

The storm raged on outside, as it had for the last week. Juniper had almost gotten used to the windows rattling. Because of this, the knocking on the door shook her out of her trance as she had been watching the raindrops racing horizontally from one side of the window to the other.

She looked over her shoulder at the sound of the knock at her sister who had been braiding their grandmother’s hair in the kitchen.

“Was that--?” Ciri started but was interrupted by pounding this time.

Juniper stood up, grabbing a fire poker as she did and tip-toed cautiously to the door of their cozy cottage, her heart pounding with curiosity but also fear. An unexpected guest at a house full of mages was not a welcomed surprise.

“Who is it?” She yelled, the warmth of the fire at her back, but it wasn’t the fire making her sweat.

“Please! We need your help!” A frightened voice on the other side of the worn door called. Juniper looked back at her family with wide eyes. They looked back at her, stiffening with anxiety.

“Tell me your name!” Juniper demanded.

“Jaskier! Please we don’t have time!”

Juniper turned to her family again and waved them away, wordlessly telling them to seek the safety of the safe room in the basement. Ciri helped their grandmother to her feet and they walked away hurriedly, hand-in-hand.

When they were out of sight, Juniper opened the door, turning the brass knob with a trembling hand. Unable to hold back the howling wind, the door burst open. In front her was a sopping wet man struggling under the weight of another man, limp at his side. Their clothes were wet with rain and blood, so much so that Juniper couldn’t figure out the source. Juniper stepped back and allowed them inside. She hooked her arm around the waist of the barely conscious man and helped the first guide his body to a cot by fireplace.

The one who must have been Jaskier, flung himself onto Juniper, squeezing the air out of her body. Words of gratitude spilled out of his mouth like the deluge of rain spilling from the gutters on the roof. Quickly, her clothes were soaked through to her skin. She managed to put her hands on his chest and push him off.

“What is going on?” She breathed, her lungs filling with the scent of blood and rain, moss and mud.

Jaskier fell to the ground at the other man’s side, grasping at his hand. “My friend, he was hurt badly,” He looked up at Juniper with pleading eyes, desperation masking his features. “Please…can you help? You must help.”

Juniper ran to the kitchen and reached for her emergency kit in the cupboard below the sink. She always kept it stocked with herbs and potions that she had crafted in the case that they needed to flee quickly or if someone she loved was injured. Or in this case, when two strangers barged through her door.

“Where is the injury?” She asked. Jaskier, pointed to the man’s thigh and chest, his hand over his mouth and tears in his eyes. He looked away, unable to see his always strong friend in his current damaged state.

“Can you save him?” He asked quietly in a voice that was barely a whisper. His eyes spilled over with tears as he searched Juniper’s face.

“I’ll try.” She responded, unsure if she could. There was so much blood.

With gentle hands and a burst of adrenaline, Juniper got to work. She cut away the tattered and soaked clothes, asking Jaskier for his assistance in removing them. The injured man was shivering, even as he laid unconscious in front of them. She threw a few more logs on the fire, sending the flames higher, sparks of amber floating through the air. She wiped the sweat from her brow but couldn’t help but notice that the man in front of her was cold as ice. Closing her eyes, Juniper held her hands above the man and worked her magic—literally. She drew upon her power to take away the man’s pain. The veins in her arms constricted and turned a deep, dark shade of black as she took on his pain. She gritted her teeth and continued, biting her lip until she tasted her own blood. 

Jaskier looked at her in awe, jaw slack. “What are you doing? What’s happening?” He asked, exasperated. He threw his head in his hands. “Oh, this can’t be good, can it?”

Without losing focus, Juniper pulled a chair out from the table with a flick of her hand and pushed Jaskier into it, turning him so he was facing the wall.

Juniper could feel her blood turn ice cold. What happened to this man? What is he? He held so much pain, and not just the physical pain from his injuries. She looked around, searching for a place to expel the pain and decided that her many frivolous houseplants would serve as a sacrifice. As she expelled the pain, the plants began to wilt and brown, sinking to the floor from their once flourishing and green states.

Eventually, the man stopped shivering and the bleeding began to slow from the deep slashes in his chest and thigh. Juniper sat back on her heels and sighed. “Now,” she started, turning to Jaskier. “What happened? Who is this?”

He chuckled, “Well, you see…he’s a witcher,” Juniper turned her eyes to the limp and naked body in front of her. A strong body riddled with scars. For the first time, she noticed the pendant around his neck engraved with a wolf.

“This is Geralt, isn’t it.” She said, knowing the answer already.

“Yes, and I’m his…I’m Jaskier. We were traveling but we had been struggling to find shelter with this damned storm. We thought we were safe in this abandoned house,” Juniper knew exactly what house he was talking about. “…and it wasn’t quite abandoned, you see. There was a striga—”

Juniper held up her hand, she didn’t need to hear anymore. She dug through her kit, her fingers fumbling and turning the glass vessels, finally landing on the one she was looking for. She uncapped the bottle, taking the cork between her teeth, and gently cradled Geralt’s head in her hand as she poured the concoction past his lips. She eyed his blood-caked neck to make sure he swallowed, and when he did, she let out a sigh of relief.

“He’ll be alright, Jaskier. He just needs to rest now.”

He laughed, “I knew it! Geralt always pulls through,” He stood up from the chair he had been bound to moments ago, clapping his hands together and turning to Juniper. “Now, what’s for dinner?”


	2. So Close, Yet So Far

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A secret is revealed in the house of mages as Geralt and Juniper form a bond.

Juniper stood watching, observing, thinking more than saying. She gazed at Geralt from afar as he slept, eyelids fluttering. She watched as his chest would rise and fall, so very slowly. So slowly in fact, that she found herself unable to look away in case she missed a breath, in case he stopped breathing.

The light in the room was dim, its only source a low fire. The shadows of the flames licked fervently at Geralt’s skin. She sat with her legs crossed, rubbing her shirt sleeve between her thumb and index finger—a source of comfort for her that began in childhood. Distantly, she could hear Jaskier treating her family to his war stories with Geralt. Juniper had listened for a while, but her curiosity regarding the Witcher was too distracting, even more distracting than Jaskier’s tendency to randomly break out in song. Ciri and their grandmother seemed to enjoy it though. Their laughter was music to Juniper’s ears, more so than the bard’s tunes.

Juniper was brought back to reality as Geralt began to stir. She stood up quickly but stood glued to her spot, not knowing if she should approach him or not. He sat up on his elbows, looking around, his brows knit. His eyes landed on Juniper, his confusion growing.

“Where am I?” He growled, his voice deep.

“You’re just outside of Sodden.”

Realization swept over him as he touched his chest and thigh. His confusion deepened. “But how did I get _here_.”

“Your friend…Jaskier. He carried you to my home.” At the mention of Jaskier, Geralt searched the room for him. “He’s okay,” she assured him. Juniper laughed. “He’s much better now, actually. Now that he knows that you’re alive.”

“And how am I alive?” He questioned, trying to sit up but grimacing in the process. Juniper walked closer to him and put her hand on his shoulder.

“You should lie down.” She urged. His eyes drifted to the hand on his shoulder and Juniper drew back.

“It was you,” He answered his own question. “You saved me.” Juniper blushed but didn’t answer. “You’re a mage.” Geralt once again answered his own question.

“You’re a Witcher.”

“Both rare these days.”

They stared at each other in silence for a few moments, studying each other, both wondering what was next.

Despite Juniper’s instructions, Geralt tried again to sit up. “I should probably go.”

Instinctively, Juniper’s hand shot out and Geralt grabbed it, quickly but not harshly. “You can’t,” She protested. “For one, you haven’t fully healed so if you left, you’d probably get an infection and die,” He stared back at her, his hand still around her wrist. “And besides, Jaskier has already invited himself to stay for dinner.” She lowered her eyes, taking her hand back and folding them in front of her. “You should lie back down.” She laughed. “Or…you could really use a bath.”

With that, Geralt relaxed, his shoulders lowering and looked down at his blood and mud-stained body.

“Hm,” he breathed. “You’re right.” Juniper extended her hand this time—an offer. Geralt took her hand gently, leaning on her as he stood, wincing. He moved his arm around her shoulders, and she put hers around his waist. His other hand gripped the sheet around his hips. Juniper questioned how much she was helping. Their difference in height made it seem like she was less of a crutch and it took more effort for him just to lean down on her.

Slowly, Juniper led him down the stairs that led to the part of the house that remained a secret to most—it was like stepping into a different world. The upstairs looked like a humble cottage, worn down through the years by its many different owners and built by the hands of someone who lived centuries ago. Being upstairs on the main floor was like traveling through time, going back to the past. The basement was for safety. It was all concrete, iron, and steel, modern sleek lines that accurately reflected the time. It was created by Juniper to keep her family safe. As Nilfgaard continued to usurp the Continent and mages continued to become virtually extinct, finding one meant immediate servitude to Nilfgaard. Juniper would do anything to prevent her family from being taken.

After opening the safety door to the basement, Geralt stopped and looked around in awe. “Well this explains a lot.”

“It’s the only way that we’ve been able to stay safe. No one has found us…yet.” Juniper said mournfully, shrugging. Geralt looked into her eyes, knowingly. He lingered too long and they broke their gaze awkwardly. “Well, let’s keep going. Shall we?” She asked and he nodded.

They entered the room that held the bath, a large circle in the middle of the room. At first glance, it appeared ominous, like a hole that led to the middle of the world. With a wave of her hand, the room lit with candles and the bath filled with steaming water, looking black as ink. The smell of lavender hung in the air. Juniper helped Geralt into the bath, turning her head as he dropped the sheet he was holding.

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” Juniper said, turning to leave.

“Stay,” he said, almost commanding. Juniper stopped in her tracks, and turned to him. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Juniper.”

“Juniper,” he repeated. “Will you stay?” She nodded, sitting down beside him on one of the many pillows in the room. Geralt leaned his head back, resting it on a pillow, closing his eyes as he slid down into the water. They sat in silence—not uncomfortable silence, but a familiar quiet. The quiet you can only feel safe in when you’re with someone who you’ve known for years. They were silent for so long that Juniper thought Geralt had fallen asleep.

When Juniper looked up from playing with the soft belt tied around her waist, Geralt was looking at her, droplets of water hanging on his eyelashes. “Earlier, you said that ‘…it’s the only way that _we’ve_ been able to stay safe,’” he paused. “Who’s ‘we’?”

Juniper contemplated giving an answer. How could she know for sure that she could trust him? Ultimately, she decided to share, sure of herself that she could protect her family if needed.

“My grandmother and my sister,” She paused, searching his face for any sign, any reason that she shouldn’t trust him. “We’re all mages.”

He didn’t say anything for a long time. The silence was deafening now. “Hm,” he grunted after a while, and Juniper stiffened, ready to defend. But he only closed his eyes again and rested his head back once more. After a few moments, Juniper relaxed.

“What are you doing near Sodden?” She asked.

He raised his eyebrows but kept his eyes closed. “It was the striga actually,” he sighed. “I’ll have to go back for it.” He opened his eyes and looked at Juniper under heavy, sleepy lids. “Fortunate for us, we ended up here. I would have died if left to the care of Jaskier.” He chuckled and Juniper let herself crack a smile.

“I guess you owe me a favor.” Juniper replied and was greeted with a cheeky smile from Geralt.

“Geralt? Are you down here?” Jaskier’s voice rang clear from the top of the stairs.

“Maybe if we’re quiet, he won’t know we’re down here.” Geralt whispered to Juniper.

_“Geralt!?”_

Juniper and Geralt shared a giggle together but didn’t say a word.

“All right. I’m coming down.” The two new friends shared a glance as they listened to the bard’s quiet but eager footsteps descend the stairs. “If anyone’s down there, be warned, I can fight. I may not look the part, but I can fight!” Jaskier rounded the corner, fists up and laid eyes upon Geralt and Juniper sitting closely at the edge of the bath. His sigh was filled with relief as his body visibly relaxed as he exhaled. He let his arms drop to his sides. “Oh, good. You’re here. And awake! It’s about time.” He moved to lounge by the bath. 

“Geralt?”

“Yes, Jaskier?” Geralt grumbled, sneaking a glance at Juniper before rolling his eyes toward the bard. She flushed at the knowing look; a secret shared between them.

“Did you know that we’re in a house full of mages? Three beautiful, magical women?” Jaskier pondered. Juniper could only imagine what he could be dreaming about. “Well, maybe one is too old for _me_ , but she might be the one for you, Geralt. You share the same white hair.” Juniper laughed with Jaskier. Her grandmother wouldn’t be the slightest bit interested in getting involved romantically, it took a lot for her just to make a friend.

Geralt raised his eyebrows. “Is that so?”

“Yes, her name is Yennefer.”


	3. Yennefer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short story on how Yennefer came to be in this world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's my homage to Yennefer (and an explanation of the dystopia she's living in). 
> 
> **Any similarities to other works of fanfiction or to the actual Witcher books is pure coincidence. I have not read the full series nor other works of fanfiction to this nature.

Only a select few knew her as Yen, but everyone knew her as Yennefer of Vengerberg—one of the most powerful mages to exist. Some would say the most chaotic. 

To Juniper and Ciri, they knew her as Nana Yen. 

In some ways, Yennefer felt grateful; grateful for being able to live so many different lives when others barely got to live just one. Whether she knew it at the moment at Sodden, Tissaia was correct in telling Yennefer that she had so much left to give. What she absolutely did not know was that she would give

…and give

…and give for centuries. 

She wouldn’t have _everything_ until her very livelihood was taken from her. 

Yennefer had spent several years of her life teaching, and even more years of her life serving others, but she was always searching for more, for something that was missing.

It wasn’t until the reason that others craved her service, the power she held and what others could never even dream of having was taken from her, that she could truly start living for herself. 

Part of Nilfgaard taking complete control was the fall of Aretuza and Ban Ard; the mass genocide of mages. If they refused to comply, to join the Nilfgaard army, their magic was taken from them. All they ever knew was stripped from them. 

This is what happened to Yennefer. 

Yennefer refused to deny her freedom any longer and refused to submit to Nilfgaard, to Fringilla. 

But again, in some ways, Yennefer felt grateful for it. For the end of others wanting her for her power and not for her. One such individual who wanted her for her power was Queen Calanthe. The Queen knew that Cintra would not survive a Nilfgaardian attack and so she bound her granddaughter to Yennefer, knowing that she was the only one in the universe able to protect her in a way that she never could—with magic. 

Yennefer agreed, knowing the time would come sooner rather than later, knowing that she couldn’t refuse. But she wondered if Calanthe would still want the fate she chose for her granddaughter if Yennefer no longer held the same power she once did. 

Yennefer would never find out. Calanthe died before ever knowing that Nilfgaard got to Yennefer before Yennefer could get to Cintra, to Princess Cirilla. 

Despite what she knew she was lacking, Yennefer knew she had so much to give to a child, blood or not. 

But Yennefer was grateful. Grateful for the many, many lives she had been able to live. As a mage, a friend, a daughter, a sister, a lover, and finally, a grandmother that loved like a mother. She finally had everything; she had a legacy. 

And for that, Yennefer was grateful. 


	4. Do You Believe in Soulmates?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ciri and Juniper contemplate the idea of soulmates and fate.

The sun was setting over Sodden, the sky a cotton-candy dream, all shades of pastel pinks and purples, deep shades of amber and gold. The grass was tall where Juniper and Ciri sat, the grass waves as if it’s painting the sky. This was the time of day where they could be together with each other. They had found this time after keeping a careful eye on the drones that flew over the area; the drones that Nilfgaard flew to keep a watchful eye, constantly searching for something they missed, more power they could take. The drones stopped at dusk in Sodden for a few hours, a few hours of peace.

Juniper walked up the hill where her sister sat waiting for her, her blonde hair glowing against the horizon. Ciri turned to her sister and smiled as she came up on the hill, sitting by her side. Ciri rested her head on her sister’s shoulder and they sat together in silence, savoring each moment. They had come to learn that they needed to appreciate the little moments because they could end in an instant.

“Do you believe in soul mates?” Ciri asked.

Juniper sat for a moment, not sure how to answer, not really knowing the answer herself. In the distance at the bottom of the hill, Geralt stood with his horse Roach, their silhouettes dark against the sky. She watched the way Geralt combed through Roach’s mane, stroking her neck. _So gentle for someone who can be so violent._

“No,” Juniper sighed. “I think that we all make choices, and those choices have outcomes. We decide our own fates.”

Ciri lifted her head, her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at her sister. “How pessimistic.”

Juniper laughed, “How _real_ , you mean?”

“No way! You really don’t think that there’s something larger at play in our lives, that we’re all just bumbling about making stupid decisions?”

“Not every decision is stupid.”

“I suppose you’re right. But what about us, June? And Nana?” Ciri asked. “I think we’re soul mates.” She said quietly. Juniper looked into her sister’s eyes, taken aback by what she said. Juniper isn’t often struck by emotions, but she felt her cheeks flush and tears tickle her eyes. Juniper knew that Ciri was right.

“Why’s that?” Juniper asked, blinking away any tears that threatened to spill over, threatening to expose any weakness.

Ciri pulled at the grass by her knees. “Well, my grandmother _chose_ Nana Yen to protect me when she was a mage, but she had her power taken from her and she still protected me. It was meant to be. And you,” she breathed, looking up at Juniper. “A sister I never expected to have, a protector _and_ mage. Somehow, you came into my life to protect me in the way that my grandmother wanted. In the way that I didn’t know I needed, as a sister.” Juniper brushed away a tear before Ciri could see. “When we found you, June, we thought you were dead.”

Juniper looked again to the tree line where Geralt and Roach stood. Jaskier had joined them. Juniper thought back to her childhood, wishing she could forget. Yennefer and Ciri had found her in the dead of winter, half buried by the snow at the side of a horse stable. She was tired of trying to find food and shelter, so tired. But her father had made a choice. He made a choice to abandon her when her mother died. He chose to abandon his only child. He chose to be selfish.

Juniper looked back at their home, the only home she had ever truly known. _Home_. She thought about how she probably would have died if not for Yennefer and Ciri. She began to think about all the circumstances that led Yennefer and Ciri to find her that day.

 _Maybe there_ was _something larger at play_. Juniper sat with this thought as she watched Geralt and Jaskier walking towards her home. Geralt looked over to where she sat, but quickly looked away as their gaze connected. Juniper saw something flicker across his face as his brow furrowed. A flash of emotion, so brief. The moment went by so quickly that Juniper wasn’t even sure that they had looked at each other at all.

“Maybe you’re right, Ciri,” Juniper wondered aloud, turning to her sister.

In return, Ciri nudged Juniper with her shoulder. “That’s a first.” Together they laughed, and Juniper wondered what the world was working on for her right in that moment. 


	5. Neither Here nor There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Juniper lets down her walls, allowing her to share something special with Geralt.

“You’re leaving?” Juniper asked, setting down the few supplies and groceries she had just been out to get. The air was turning crisp, it stung at her nose. She swept her hood off her head and let it rest on her shoulders, hidden under her waves of golden hair; it was the color of honey.

Geralt looked up at her at the door as he clasped his bag closed, the light of the fire setting his amber eyes ablaze. “Yes,” he murmured, “in the morning.”

The bard and the Witcher had been guests to Juniper and her family for a week, the most exciting seven days the trio had experienced in a long time, though they all knew that wasn’t such a bad thing. Any excitement could also mean danger, but after the first few days of Jaskier and Geralt’s arrival, they had decided they would be safe, they could have fun. For once, they had forgotten about being fearful.

“We’re going to continue on our merry way after we fight the striga,” Jaskier piped up gleefully, hands on his hips. “Right, Geralt?” He eyed his friend expectantly as he continued braiding Ciri’s hair.

Geralt grunted in answer, knowing full well that there was no _we_ in fighting monsters. He glanced at Juniper and then down to her hands where she was fiddling with the tassels of her scarf. He looked back up to her face, her cheeks rosy from the wind. Their eyes found each other, and they held each other’s gaze for just a moment until Juniper looked down, her brown eyes darkening even more. From afar, they looked black. Nervously, she looked around the room at everyone—her grandmother sitting by the fire watching Jaskier braid her sister’s long blonde hair, a smile on her face. Her family was content, finally able to feel what normal could be. Juniper only knew the normal of living in fear, of hoping that each precious moment with her family wouldn’t be cut short.

Juniper put on her jacket once more and left through the door, climbing the hill where she and her sister watch the sun set in the evenings. It was already dark out, but the full moon illuminated her pathway up the hill. She plopped down on the ground and fell back until she was looking up at the sky, the tall grass swallowing her whole. She looked at the stars in the vast sky. She would never tire of the night sky, it helped her escape the present knowing that the universe was omnipresent, and she was so small, so insignificant.

Just then, her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. She didn’t bother to sit up. The empty space next to her was filled by Geralt’s presence as he laid down next to her, not saying a word. Juniper and Geralt understood each other without having to even speak. They had exchanged so many words in the last week, though, they spent every night together because neither could ever sleep. Every night they had sat together, talking and sometimes not talking until the sun would rise. Sometimes they would sleep, but they never touched, they hadn’t touched since Geralt first arrived. But they moved together, an unspoken, unrecognized dance.

Juniper turned on her side, facing Geralt. She admired the contours of his face, shadowed by the light of the moon, his white hair aglow. His eyes flickered briefly to acknowledge her movement. “June,” he sighed. “Are you all right?”

She took a moment to consider the question. _Was she all right?_

“No,” she replied. “I don’t think I am.” Geralt eyed her, turning his head just slightly. His expression prompted her to elaborate. “I’m tired of always looking over my shoulder, expecting someone to be there. I’m tired of being afraid. I want to be free.” She spoke quietly, maybe she was only speaking to herself. Juniper was always okay, and if she wasn’t, no one would know otherwise. Juniper didn’t ask for help, didn’t ask for a better life. This was as good as it got. She had never known what life was like before Nilfgaard. She wondered if she would ever know a life without their constant, lurking presence.

For the first time in a week, they touched. Geralt’s fingers intertwined with Juniper’s in a way that told her he understood. His hand was warm, calloused. It felt safe. It felt scary.

Juniper took back her hand and sat up suddenly. Geralt mirrored her, moving along in that secret dance. His eyes searched her face, darting to her lips. Something lit inside of them, a flame bursting to light. They both leaned in, their faces colliding.

“ _Fuck_!” They shouted. Juniper grabbed her nose, blood trickling into her palm. Geralt winced, his face unharmed. Juniper grimaced as she got to her feet and walked quickly to her house, Geralt on her heels.

“June, I’m sorry,” he offered as she barged through the door. Juniper walked over to the sink, wetting a towel. Ciri rushed over to her, her hair half braided.

“What happened?” She asked, worry masking her face.

“ _Nothing_.” Both Geralt and Juniper answered a little too quickly. The five of them looked at each other, exchanging unspoken questions and answers. Juniper could feel heat creeping up her neck. She had been so taken aback with embarrassment she forgot she could heal herself.

“I’m going to—I’m going to take care of this,” she said to no one in particular, flustered. She walked off to her work room where she kept all of her supplies, leaving her family and her visitors to make their own assumptions.

\------------------------------------------------

Juniper sat on the rug-covered floors next to the fire. She had easily healed her nose, but she couldn’t bring herself to face her family. _They knew, they had to know_ , she thought to herself, rubbing the sleeve of her sweater between her fingers. She looked up at the doorway to find Geralt standing, watching her.

“Little creepy, don’t you think?” She laughed. His lips formed a small smile as he looked down. He came over to where Juniper was sitting and sat down next to her. Close, but not too close. “We should probably talk about that kiss—well, _almost_ kiss, I mean.” She said, breaking the silence.

Geralt looked over at her under his eyelids, they were heavy with desire. He reached out towards Juniper and pulled her into his lap, effortlessly. This was the closest they had ever been. Juniper was sure he could hear her heartbeat. He cupped her face, then let his hand fall to the side of her neck, his thumb stroking her cheek. He never let his eyes leave hers.

“We don’t have to talk,” he said, his voice low. His eyes fell to her mouth, he made sure not to mess up this time as he leaned in slowly. As their lips met, Juniper’s hands held the sides of his face gently, but wanting to get closer in any way that she could. Geralt wrapped his arms around her as they kissed. They kissed with eagerness, with passion, with a gentle ferocity. A tear rolled down Juniper’s cheek knowing that this moment was bittersweet, another moment in her life that wouldn’t last. Geralt somehow pulled her closer, their chests pressed together.

What they didn’t know was that they would always be connected. The two would always be connected in more ways than just the way they were in that moment, in each other’s arms. When Juniper had taken Geralt’s pain, she didn’t know that she would be taking more, that she would forever hold the deepest, unacknowledged pieces of him.

No matter how long they were apart or how far the distance between them, they would always be together. 


	6. The Beginning of the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sexual tension between Juniper and Geralt comes to a climax. Geralt and Jaskier leave Sodden.

The morning that Geralt and Jaskier were set to leave, Juniper awoke just before dawn. That moment where the sun hadn’t quite broken the horizon, but the sky was lit to a silky blue. It was the time of morning that if you woke, you would turn over and fall back asleep. Juniper did not fall back asleep, she wanted to take advantage of any time left before Geralt and Jaskier had to leave. She wanted to soak up every ounce of normalcy that she could.

Juniper and Geralt had fallen asleep in each other’s arms by the fire. When she opened her eyes, the fire had dwindled to just barely smoldering embers. She took a moment to bury herself further into Geralt’s chest, smiling at the memory of their kiss. She flushed as she remembered that they had done more than just kiss, they had done more five times that night.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As they were kissing, that fire in them had been lit again, just as it had on the hill except this time there were no bloody noses. They undressed each other with eager hands, kissed each other with steady mouths. Juniper could still feel her breath catch when Geralt held one hand on her throat and the other between her legs. Some would say they fucked, but Juniper liked to think that what they did was the result of a week’s worth of tension, of unspoken lust, of a deep connection.

She had wondered what Geralt thought of her when her clothes were off, she wondered what it meant for him because she knew what it meant for her. It meant that she trusted him. She wondered what he thought as he kneeled over her naked body, what he thought of the shiny pink scars on her body from the times she had to fight for her life as a child. She remembered fighting back tears when he kissed each one. She knew what this meant to him too.

Before they had fallen asleep, they had laid on the floor on their backs panting, sweat covering their bodies. Geralt had tried to go for one more round, but Juniper had to stop him.

 _“No…”_ she breathed, laughing a little. _“I can’t handle another…”_ She could hardly think straight let alone speak coherently.

Juniper’s daydream was interrupted by Geralt’s arms tightening around her as he took in a deep breath. “’Morning, June,” he whispered.

“Good morning.” She replied. He kissed the top of her head and squeezed her tighter. “Are you trying to kill me?” She wheezed and he loosened his grip.

A smirk played at his lips. “I thought that’s what I was trying to do last night.”

“You _almost_ did.”

He sat up on his elbow, eyes dark. He moved so he was on top of her, laying between her legs. He brushed her hair behind her ear as he looked into her eyes. His lips brushed against her jaw and tickled her ear. “Maybe I should try again.” He whispered, causing Juniper to shiver. He kissed her cheek, her lips, her chin, and her neck. His hands cradled her, his fingers left their own kisses on her body. She ran her fingers through his hair at the base of his neck, then placed her fingers under his chin so he could look at her.

Without saying a word, she put her hand on his chest and pushed him on his back and got on top of him. Geralt raised his eyebrows.

“You’re not the only one who can be cruel,” she said as she went to kiss his neck, he moaned as she did. This time, it was her hand on his throat. They shared a cheeky, devilish look. She ran her fingers down his sides causing him to shiver. She could feel his cock between her legs, and she stroked it gently before guiding him inside of her. His fingers dug into her hips as she rode him slowly, she bit her lip when he moaned under his breath, _“Fuck, June.”_

She knew he was close and so was she, but before either of them could finish his eyes grew dark and he lifted her up and bent her over on the ground, his strong hands holding her down as he thrust into her. Her fingers gripped at the blanket beneath her as she struggled to keep quiet. She looked back at him and admired his tensing muscles; she squeezed her eyes shut as she was overcome by pleasure. Geralt took her arms and held them behind her back and pulled her up so his chest was up against her back as he continued. His teeth were at her neck when he growled, _“You’re mine.”_

When he finished, they collapsed in a heap on the floor once again. 

Despite her last will, Juniper couldn’t help but fall back asleep. When she woke again, Geralt was gone. She sat up in a flurry, listening. It was quiet except for the distant sound of the rocking chair creaking on the floor upstairs. She got dressed before she walked towards the sound to find her grandmother, sitting by the fire. Juniper walked up to her, putting her hand on her sweater-adorned shoulder and leaned down to kiss the top of her head.

“How’s your nose, Junie?” Yennefer asked, a smirk on her lips and a cheeky glint in her lavender eyes. Her white hair was in a braid, something that Ciri had done for her every morning. 

Juniper scoffed, “Fine, Nana. Just fine.” She took a seat on the ottoman next to the rocking chair and looked outside, where her sister and Jaskier were laughing, their heads thrown back in pure joy. Again, Juniper felt the moment was so bittersweet, she wished she could stop time altogether.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Juniper’s thoughts were interrupted by her grandmother’s question. She looked at her grandmother’s sweet, yet strong face. She had come into Juniper’s life at a time where she was too old to be her mother, but at the right age to be her grandmother; something she had been missing in her life. Yennefer turned to watch Ciri dance with Jaskier. The two had become so close, the best of friends. Ciri’s true personality had come to light—a bubbly and brave young woman.

“It’s beautiful,” Juniper answered quietly. She could feel her grandmother’s eyes on her, could already imagine the wrinkles on the sides of her eyes turning upward in a sad, wistful smile. 

“You two will be just fine on your own.” Yennefer replied. Juniper was unsure if she meant when Geralt and Jaskier leave, or when she leaves, when she dies. Yennefer spoke truthfully to Juniper and Ciri, she prepared them for the worst and for the best. They all knew that her time in this universe was coming to an end. Juniper reached out and took her grandmother’s aged hands in both of her own, admiring everything that her hands had held, had done. A part of Juniper knew that there was still magic running through her grandmother’s veins. There had to be.

“Even if you’re apart, you’ll always be together.” Yennefer continued, turning the ring on Juniper’s finger. She had created three rings for her sister, grandmother, and herself to wear. It was moonstone, and if they were ever split up, it would glow when they got close or even if they touched it. A precaution in the case something horrible happened.

An idea came to Juniper. “I’ll be right back, Nana.” She left, but not before giving her hand a squeeze. She ran up to her work room and grabbed the moonstone pendant she had made when testing out the spell on the rings. She set it down on her table and held her hands over it, murmuring under her breath. The stone glowed before her, and a smile spread across her face. She made a second one for herself. With the necklace in hand, she ran outside and found Geralt with Roach, getting her ready to leave.

She let out a breath as she stopped before him. He raised his eyebrows at her sudden appearance. She reached for his hand, gently, and opened his palm and placed the necklace inside.

“What’s this?” He asked.

Juniper blushed before explaining. “Well, it’s a gift,” she started. She gently unclasped the chain and reached her arms around the Witcher’s neck, standing on her tip toes. “I share one with my sister and grandmother.” She let the necklace rest around his neck, gently patting it into place on his chest. “Since you’re leaving…and I have no idea when we’ll see each other again. This will let me know if we’re close, or if you touch it, I’ll feel it too.” As she explained, she instinctively held her own necklace between her fingers, and she could have sworn she saw him almost smile.

“How kind,” he said, quietly. “I hope our paths cross sooner rather than later.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been four years since Juniper last saw the Witcher or his bard. Four years that she had spent searching for her sister and mourning the death of her grandmother. Four years she spent running from Nilfgaard.

It had happened so quickly, but when the memories came to her in her sleep—when she could actually sleep—it felt like time stood eerily still even though she wanted it to end.

Shortly after Geralt and Jaskier left, Juniper had a bad feeling. In her gut, in the back of her mind, she knew that something was wrong. _A striga? Where had it come from?_

There was no reason for there to be a striga in Sodden, in an abandoned place where only a handful of other people lived. Unless of course, that reason was for bait. She had tried to run after Geralt and Jaskier, but by the time she reached the abandoned house, it was empty. She breathed fast, thinking of all the things that could have taken place when they got here. In her gut, she knew that they were safe, that they had known that something was off. She touched her necklace and after an agonizingly long moment, it glowed. They were safe. 

But maybe the real bait was for her to run after them, to warn them. The real threat was waiting for her when she got back to her home. She watched behind their tool shed as her sister was dragged out of their home, kicking and screaming. _Why wasn’t she using her power?_ She had thought to herself. She stood up, suddenly filled with bravery and rage. She had tried to stop them, but she couldn’t use her power either. She was helpless. _Nilfgaard must have done something._

 _“But where’s the other one—Juniper?”_ They interrogated Ciri. Her eyes searched the grounds and fell on her sister.

_“She left with the Witcher.”_

Every breath left Juniper’s body in that moment; her heart felt like it stopped beating. Her sister had protected her. And for what? Why? Juniper had failed at the only thing she wanted to succeed at, keeping her family safe. She failed. She held back tears, gripping her ring tightly on her finger, hoping that her sister could feel it and know that she would stop at nothing to get to her.

They left in a hurry. Juniper had never felt so empty, not even when she hadn’t eaten for days and she thought that she was as good as dead, when she had to fight for table scraps.

The situation grew more grim when she found her grandmother on the floor next to the rocking chair where she had left. Her last words to her grandmother rung in her head. _“I’ll be right back, Nana.”_ Juniper remembered thinking that she looked peaceful in death, a peace that had come after hundreds of years of fighting to survive.

For the last time, she kissed her grandmother on top of her head. 


	7. Worlds Collide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Juniper are finally reunited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I added a small line to the end because I thought it added some soft Geralt that the ending needed**

Day after day, night after night, week after week. 

Juniper sat awake once again, contemplating what she could do to get her sister back, to free her. Every day, she felt guilty for her own freedom, for any ounce of joy she felt in a day. _Was Ciri happy? Was she sleeping?_ How could she appreciate anything in her life when she constantly felt like she should be doing more to get to Ciri? _How could she do more?_

She had done so much already; her plan was coming to fruition. The next step was to just do it, to pull the trigger. Juniper had spent the last four years studying Nilfgaard’s tactics, their technology. She looked for any weak spots and had found several. She made connections to an inside source. She had been ready to lead the revolution alone, but then she had found other mages—a whole city of them. _Myanmag._

Juniper had integrated easily; they were always welcoming mages for obvious reasons. She had gotten to the secret town of Myanmag through sheer luck, through fate. She had been travelling everywhere, trying to find someone, anyone. In her heart she knew that there were other mages in the world, and she was right. She had been in Blaviken and had nearly been the victim of a Bruxa when she happened to encounter another mage. She didn’t remember much after the attack but remembered waking up in Myanmag. She had been rescued by Triss Merigold.

“Juniper,” Triss said sleepily, sitting up in Juniper’s bed. She was holding the black silk sheets up to her chest. “Why don’t you come back to bed?”

Juniper took a sip of her drink; she had been nursing the deep amber liquid for the past few hours. It burned on the way down, but she welcomed the warmth. She stood up from the sofa where she had been sitting in front of the fireplace that sat in the middle of her room, her sheer robe falling down, cascading to her bare feet. Underneath, she wore nothing but the tattoos that covered her arms and one of her thighs and the moonstone jewelry that hadn’t told her that her loved ones were nearby in years. She sat on the edge of her bed; it could fit nearly ten other people which she knew from experience. Admiring the way the warm glow of the fire highlighted Triss’s brown skin and her freckles, Juniper twirled her curly hair around her finger and patted it back into place behind her ear, smiling as she did. Triss held her hand to her face, shutting her eyes and smiling.

“I will,” Juniper said quietly. “I’ll meet you in your dreams soon.” Triss laid back in bed, the plump pillow forming perfectly around her head. It took hardly anytime at all for her to fall back asleep. Juniper found herself envious at the ease of which she could sleep. 

Juniper exited the room quietly, taking her drink with her. Softly, she padded down the corridors, running her fingertips along the rough brick walls. Every once in a while, she could hear laughter from behind the doors of those who chose not to sleep, or she could hear others getting up to no good. Juniper had her fair share of late-night escapades through the years. She had been with so many men and women or whomever she found attractive that night, that she stopped bothering to keep count—not that it mattered. It had been fun until she realized it was her only way to feel something other than the intense helplessness she felt trying to get to her sister. If she wasn’t sleeping she might as well be trying to feel something in the easiest way she could.

Alone, she could not take on Nilfgaard, but with the other mages, she could. The mages of Myanmag were strong, and most importantly they were ready. 

The greater good could finally win.

Bathed in moonlight, Juniper leaned against the stone arches that overlooked the garden, _her_ garden. She looked to the night sky which used to bring her comfort, but now it made her feel so small and so alone. Her thoughts were interrupted by sharp and fast whispers.

_“How did they find us?”_

_“I have no idea, but he’s a Witcher. We can trust him. I know him.”_

Juniper dropped her drink and the whispers stopped as the glass shattered at her feet, piercing through the otherwise quiet and still night. The two who had been engaged in conversation turned to where Juniper stood. 

“Who’s there?” One called out. Juniper stepped forward, avoiding the glass.

“Oh, it’s you, June.” Coral said, relieved.

“Did you say a Witcher is here?” Juniper asked, feeling like it wasn’t her voice asking the question. It didn’t sound real to her.

“Yes,” Mousesack explained. “He and another arrived just now. Unexpectedly as I’m sure you heard.”

“Where are they?” She asked. Coral and Mousesack exchanged a glance.

“He’s been asking for you.” Mousesack said quietly after a moment. Juniper instinctively reached up and touched her necklace, she wondered why it hadn’t been working. _Was it him? It must be him. Had the magic worn off?_

Without having to ask, they began walking. They stopped at the top of the stairs overlooking the grand foyer. The walls were cloaked in curtains of champagne silk and gold tulle, the stairs a strong white marble. Juniper thought she was in heaven when she first arrived.

Before he even turned around, the sight of Jaskier’s delighted expression told her what she needed to know. The sight of Jaskier alone made her giddy, anticipation turned in her stomach. She instantly recognized the white hair tied at the nape of the strong neck of Jaskier’s towering companion. Jaskier reached out and pulled at the shirt sleeve at Geralt’s elbow excitedly and he turned to follow his gaze, his eyes crawling up the staircase to where Juniper stood. He was breathless, he felt weak like he could drop to his knees. To him, she looked like an angel, the curves of her body disguised by the sheerest fabric that made her look like she was glowing. Her honey hair fell over her shoulder, it could easily be mistaken for gold. But her dark brown eyes did not match her angelic appearance. No, they were rather of someone who hadn’t slept, who had been constantly let down time and time again. 

“It’s you,” she said to herself, a smile breaking on her face as she descended the grand staircase. She threw her arms around the pair as best she could in a warm embrace. Jaskier kissed both of her rosy cheeks.

“Might I say, Junie,” he started. “I am absolutely delighted to see you. And _all_ of you, I might add.” He said, indicating her sheer gown. She became distinctly aware of her own body and wished she had changed before leaving her room, but then again, she had hardly expected the reunion or to encounter anyone at all. She could feel Geralt’s eyes on her but couldn’t bring herself to make eye contact knowing full well she wasn’t ready for all of the memories, the feelings to come flooding back.

“What’s going on?”

Juniper turned to find Triss standing behind her, still sleepy. Triss reached for Juniper’s hand and intertwined their fingers together, giving her hand a squeeze.

“I thought you were coming back to bed?” She questioned Juniper. “I came looking for you when you hadn’t.”

“Sorry,” Juniper said quietly. She couldn’t help but think that Triss looked furiously adorable while sleepy. “I was out for some fresh air when I heard the news of our guests’ arrival.” Triss nodded in acknowledgement and smiled sheepishly to Geralt and Jaskier. Juniper knew that Triss knew exactly who they were. Triss knew everything and her stomach sank knowing what Geralt’s arrival meant. 

Jaskier cleared his throat, eyes wide as he looked at Geralt incredulously. “Well,” he said, slapping his thighs. “June, it seems you have _a lot_ to catch us up on.”

Juniper felt her neck grow hot as she flushed. Finally, she looked at Geralt who looked away quickly. She couldn’t quite put her finger on the emotion that momentarily flashed across his face but she recognized it as being something close to what she had been feeling for years—longing.

“But first,” Jaskier continued. “I’m starved to death.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------

With a full belly, Juniper laid on her back with her arms and legs outstretched in her bed. Between her fingertips, she fiddled with a blanket. She blew out a sigh in frustration. All the emotions rumbling inside her made her feel as if she would burst.

For a third time that evening, her thoughts and musings were interrupted by a knock at the door. She pulled herself out of bed and made the long journey to her doorway as she wondered who it could be. It was long past the time of night—now early morning—where she could reasonably get some sleep, so she had decided that she would stay awake like she did most other nights; not that her mind would let her sleep.

She opened the door to find no one there. She took a step out into the corridor and saw Geralt’s back, walking away, his shoulders pinched underneath his black shirt. She contemplated letting him leave but knew that she couldn’t.

 _“Geralt?”_ She called. He turned around; his shoulders visibly relaxing as he turned around. She welcomed him to her room, and they walked towards her sofa, sitting down on opposite ends. The distance between them couldn’t have felt more vast.

They didn’t speak, he didn’t even look at her. 

Juniper felt brave. She scooted closer to him and took his hand as he looked to her. As she looked into his amber eyes, it felt as if no time had passed at all. She reached out and cradled his face, stroking his cheek with her thumb and he leaned into her hand with closed eyes and a pained expression.

“You found me,” she said quietly.

“June,” he whispered, and with that, he scooped her into his arms and buried his face into her neck, breathing her in—lavender and pine. Juniper wrapped her arms around his neck and shut her eyes.

"I never stopped looking," he said into the nape of her neck. 

The feeling of being so close, so connected felt more real than whatever she had been feeling for the past four years. Suddenly she felt whole again, the missing part of her was found. Because after all, they would always be together no matter how far apart. 


	8. Just the Three of Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Juniper is given bad news and helps Jaskier train.

Just as they had years ago, Juniper and Geralt talked until the sun rose. They held each other and talked of what happened in the four years they were apart, about what happened after Geralt and Jaskier left, the things that Juniper left out when catching up with Jaskier.

Juniper hadn’t spoken as much as she did that night than she had in the last four years.

Though it was difficult to say goodbye again given that the time since the last one was so unexpectedly long, Juniper and Geralt knew that they couldn’t spend the whole day in bed. Not that day anyway. Juniper watched Geralt walk down the corridor, looking back at her with a sweet smile, love drunk. When she turned to go back into her room, she was met by Triss.

“Triss,” she said quietly, instinctively reaching out. Juniper was always the rescuer. Triss pulled away from her and walked past into Juniper’s room, their bodies breezing past one another like two strangers passing on the street. Juniper breathed in the scent of her—clementines and mint—a scent so familiar to Juniper that she felt her gut twist with guilt.

A scent that reminded her of sun-soaked sheets latent with the smell of sleep and late night kisses, mornings in the garden, holding hands under the table, best friends, lovers.

Juniper shut the door as she went back into her room, knowing and dreading the conversation ahead.

The sun leaked in through her bedroom windows that overlooked her garden. It was a beautiful, golden day and as she stepped into the light that cascaded over her bed, she felt an instant warmth. But that didn’t prevent the chills she got from Triss’s cold glare, but Triss was not the bad guy. She sat next to Triss at the edge of her bed where she was fiddling with her shirtsleeve, a habit that she picked up from Juniper.

“Triss—”

“Juniper,” she interrupted. “I know. I knew this was going to happen, though I hoped that it wouldn’t.” She looked away from Juniper, out past the dust motes dancing in the sunlight in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows. “Why didn’t you talk to me first before spending the night with him?” Her voice lost strength, her shoulders falling with her confidence.

“I don’t know—I don’t know why…” She was telling the truth. Juniper had no idea why she and Geralt couldn’t stay away from each other, why they couldn’t bear to be away for more than a few minutes.

“You know _why_ June!” She raised her voice, standing as she did. But Juniper didn’t know, she looked up at her once partner, her best friend. Tears threatened to spill down Triss’s beautifully round and freckled cheeks. Juniper looked at her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

“Triss, what are you talking about?”

She looked defeated as she scoffed. “Now you’re just making me look stupid. I mean, were you just using me until he found you? Was I just a body to fill the empty space in your bed? Because you could have done that with anybody—you have.”

Juniper tried to reach out to Triss, but she pulled away. “I wasn’t using you, Triss. I have a lot of feelings for you,” But she could never tell Triss that she loved her, because deep down she knew that what she felt wasn’t love. “I don’t understand what you’re saying. I honestly don’t. I didn’t expect to ever see him again. I spent years looking for him, but never found him. Day after day. But then I met you…” She fell off quietly. “I didn’t expect things to change so quickly. I know we’ve talked about the possibility, but I didn’t think it would happen.”

“I didn’t think it would hurt this much, but don’t you understand, June? When you healed him, took his pain, you bonded yourself to him forever. You took on pieces of him that would never keep you apart. Parts of him _are_ you.” She said, pointing to her.

Juniper froze. She felt as if the floor had dropped beneath her. _Did Geralt know this? Was this some kind of love curse? Were her feelings even real? Were his?_

Triss rolled her eyes. “You had to have known,” she paused, seeing Juniper’s reaction which was pure confusion. “Right?” Her fists fell softly open at her sides.

Heat creeped up Juniper’s neck and she chewed at the inside of her cheek. “No,” she sighed through gritted teeth. “I didn’t.”

“Sorry, June. Regardless, we can’t be together. We shouldn’t have in the first place. I should have known this would happen.” She shook her head as she walked towards the door, beating herself up for letting herself be used, for letting herself fall in love.

“Stop catastrophizing." Juniper spat. "As if you _knew_ this would happen, because that’s definitely not true.” Even as Juniper spit out those words and knew that she couldn’t take them back, she knew it would push Triss away. “I guess what we had wasn’t real anyway, so don’t feel so bad.” Juniper looked away from Triss as she said the words that would make things easier, she couldn't bring herself to see how much the words hurt. 

“What we had,” Triss breathed, shaking her head. “I should go, June.” Before leaving, she turned back. “I’m sorry it had to be this way. Good luck with your destiny.”

Juniper didn’t look, but after a moment she heard the door shut softly. She paced with her hands on her hips, chewing at her lip. She was furious, heart-achingly so. _This is exactly why I shouldn’t have let her in; why I shouldn’t have gotten close._ She thought, as she found herself in front of her bathroom sink, a basin of emerald and gold. She looked at herself in the mirror, the corner of her lip rising in disgust for herself. She looked at her shit-brown eyes, her stupid pout, her pointed chin, her brows furrowed forming a permanent wrinkle between her eyes. She clenched her teeth together, her jaw tightening. She was stupidly beautiful, but if you looked close or long enough, there was something wrong, something missing. There was no soul behind her picturesque features.

Juniper hated herself. 

“How could I be so _stupid?”_ She said, placing both of her hands on the edges of the vanity. Standing up straight, she turned the faucet, letting the water run ice cold over her fingertips. She cupped the water in her palms and splashed her face.

Numb—it was time to numb the feelings. Juniper tied her hair low at her slender neck, then tossed back several swallows of the strongest spirit on her bar cart, leaving her stomach burning. She blinked a few times to focus and dropped her robe, remembering how frail she had been when Triss found her as she felt the silk fall against her skin. Now, she had filled back out to her regular proportions, if not more muscular this time, as she had spent too many hours to count, sweating under the sun in her garden or training for battle. Her strength felt more powerful to her than her magic did.

Once again, she looked at herself in the mirror. In her greatest moments, in moments of pure happiness or ecstasy, the tattoos on her arms and her thigh would come to life, but in her darkest times, they looked as if they were sleeping. The siren on her shoulder hid behind the massive ship, afraid to come out and face whatever darkness Juniper was witnessing. She had made herself into a work of art, something she could be proud of. She touched her fingers to the poppies on her forearm, they were folded in on themselves. She looked at her reflection; her breasts were not quite symmetrical she thought to herself, but beautiful nonetheless as they pointed slightly upward. She touched the moles near her belly button, the pink scars on her sides. They looked pearly in the reflection of the sun. She smiled, thinking about the times that Geralt had touched her. The smile quickly faded as she remembered all of her questions with no answers. She clenched her fists as she became angry once more.

She marched into her closet and pulled a black shirt over her shoulders, her slightly drunken fingers fumbling at the buttons. She left enough buttons on the shirt undone so that if you were lucky, you could catch a glimpse of her bare breasts underneath. Juniper enjoyed the tease. Forcefully, she rolled up her sleeves, revealing her tanned forearms, and tucked her shirt into her black pants. Lastly, she laced up her boots before bounding down the stairs and out towards the garden shed where she grabbed her tools and got to work underneath the sun. The work was gratifying, as she knew her garden fed Myanmag’s small population and they also crafted the potions that she had been stockpiling.

As she dug into the earth with her shovel, she buried her feelings.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was long past noon when she came upon a surprise in her garden.

“Hmmm. I don’t remember planting any bards next to my carrots,” she said, wiping the sweat from her forehead, her hair sticking to her skin where it had fallen out of her hair tie. She could feel her shirt clinging to her back.

“Oh,” Jaskier said in the surprise of being found. “I uh—well, I thought I fit in well amongst the carrots actually.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” he said, standing up, dusting the dirt off his trousers. “Tall, lanky, good head of hair. Quite delicious if you take a bite. Or so I’ve heard.” He said with a smirk. Juniper chuckled.

“I’m sure,” she retorted, rolling her eyes.

“Wouldn’t you like to find out. Or it seems you’re interested in…other fruits these days.”

“I like all fruits, Jaskier.” She responded, quickly picking up his metaphor. “Vegetables too. I like to mix in some herbs from time to time as well.”

He put his hands up. “A woman with many good tastes is what I’m hearing.” They laughed together. “Anyway, I’ll get out of your way.”

“I don’t mind the company," She started, welcoming any distraction. "But are you going to tell me why were you really here in the first place?”

He fiddled with the tomato vines but stopped when Juniper shot him a look that told him to back off from her precious tomatoes. “Well, I—how should I put this,” He looked up to the clear sky, eyes squinting in thought. “I was feeling kind of sad actually.” Juniper didn’t say anything, she waited for him to continue. “I was thinking about how much I’ve missed my best friend, Ciri and then I started thinking about how much I want to help but then I realized,” his voice got quiet as he spoke. “I don’t have any gifts to offer.” He shrugged. “All I’ve got is my lute.”

“You can’t forget about your good looks.” Juniper said light-heartedly.

Jaskier smiled softly. “But that’s not going to help take down Nilfgaard.”

Juniper thought for a moment when an idea came to her. “Have you ever used a sword before?”

Jaskier returned an intrigued look. “A few times, but why?”

“I can train you to fight, Jaskier.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Always keep your eyes on the opponent, but we aware of your environment. Never stand still,” Juniper coached from under the willow tree as she watched Jaskier fumble with the sword in his hands as he stood in front of the dummy that Juniper had crafted to practice. She needed her skills to remain sharp, she would always be one step ahead; never caught off guard.

Jaskier dropped his arm to his side and brought the other one up to shield his eyes against the waning afternoon sun and looked to Juniper in the shade as she lounged. “Can I take a break?’

“Will you take a break when Nilfgaard has a dagger at your throat?”

“C’mon Junie. This isn’t for real this time.”

“Why don’t you take a break and watch how it’s done, Jaskier.” Both Juniper and Jaskier turned to the deep voice that had come from the side of the hill— _Geralt._ Juniper and Geralt hadn’t seen each other since the night before and anger boiled inside of her as she stood. Geralt nodded towards her, waving her to the battleground, challenging her.

She took her sword from Jaskier and curtsied acrimoniously. “It would be a great honor to kick your ass, Sir Geralt.” Jaskier chuckled as he fell to the ground underneath the tree, tossing his head back in laughter. Geralt glared at him out of the corner of his eye.

“How do you know you’ll win?” He grumbled.

“I always win.”


	9. Push and Pull

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Juniper put on a show for Jaskier.

The sun was slipping below the horizon, there was just moments before it would dip completely below. But for now, it was illuminating the willow tree where Jaskier sat; its golden light illuminating the leaves and casting a shadow over the makeshift combat training grounds. He watched two of his favorite people in the world show him how to engage in combat, though he had a feeling he was in for a show.

He pulled at the grass beneath him, filled with worry that his days were numbered with his loved ones, whether that meant his time in the universe was soon to be over or theirs was. He wondered about Ciri. Like Juniper, he thought about her everyday. While Geralt was his best friend, Ciri was a very close second.

“Hey!” He spoke up, but Juniper and Geralt were lost in combat, the sound of their swords ringing in his ears as they connected. They looked angry, like two lions about to kill each other. He wondered what had changed between them. Despite the new animosity, they were still unable to be kept apart. He thought back on the last few years with Geralt, but he was always somewhere else, always thinking about Juniper though he tried not to talk of her often. Everything he felt, he kept inside.

 _“Hey!”_ He yelled again, this time standing. They stopped, panting, and turned to him, both of their expressions the same, brows furrowed, jaws set, fists clenched. “How am I supposed to learn anything if all you’re doing is grunting and grumbling?” He set his hands on his hips, then chuckled. His chuckle grew to a laugh. He glanced at his shoes abashedly. “Do you two always plan your outfits?”

Juniper looked down at her own sweat-soaked and dirt-covered clothes, then glanced at Geralt; Jaskier was right, they were wearing similar black shirts and pants, even the boots looked the same. Geralt smirked, but Juniper only ground her teeth in irritation, wondering if her choice of clothing had anything to do with the parts of her that were more Geralt than herself.

“You want to learn, Jaskier?” Juniper called, still looking at Geralt. “Always keep your eyes on your opponent but use your peripheral vision to keep watch of their feet so you can learn to predict their next move.” At that moment, Geralt lunged but Juniper dodged effortlessly, pirouetting away and swinging her sword around. It collided with Geralt’s and the sound rung in her ears.

“When were you going to tell me about our little bond?” She said through clenched teeth, their faces close, so close she could see exactly when Geralt swallowed, the muscles of his throat contracting and relaxing, his skin slick with sweat like her own. His eyes fluttered to her unbuttoned shirt, to the lone drip of sweat rolling down between her breasts. It happened quickly, but it was long enough to distract him. Juniper smirked to herself.

She made her next move knowing she caught him off guard. “Always be one step ahead, Jaskier.” She lectured as Geralt just barely countered her swing.

“What are you talking about, June?” Geralt said calmly, going back to her earlier question.

“When I healed you,” she grunted, blocking a swing at her calf. “When you were dying that night,” She breathed, sliding backward, her boots kicking up dust as the gravel crunched beneath her feet. “Have you known this whole time that we’ve been connected ever since?”

Something flickered across his face as their swords collided once again. They were a perfect match, in more ways than one. “June,” he signed. “what’s the problem here?”

“The problem,” she started but was cut off as Geralt striked, this time catching her off guard. He hooked his arm around her neck and kicked her sword away as it dropped to the ground. He held her arms behind her back, his large hands easily gripping her wrists. She couldn’t look at him, but she could feel his gaze—hot and burning from underneath dark lashes and through the top of her head. “The problem, _Geralt_ , is that none of this is real.” She could feel his strong chest against the back of her head, rising and falling fast with each breath. The intended lesson for Jaskier was long forgotten.

“Of course it’s real.” He growled angrily. His anger came from a place where he had wondered the same things. He wondered if his feelings were real, or hers, if the last four years spent thinking of her constantly was a waste. “Taking on parts of me, all of me, how could you love all of that?” His voice was quiet and low in her ear as his thick arm tightened further around her neck, pressing against her throat just enough that she was struggling to catch her breath.

It had been a long day for the both of them under the sun. Their hair was frazzled, and their dusty clothes were clinging to their sweaty skin. If you looked at them now, it would look as if Juniper was losing, that she was about to withdraw. Her muscles were tired from being in her garden all day, her skin was sunkissed and hot under her clothes, the freckles on her nose revealing themselves. Her hair was barely being held up by her hair tie and it threatened to fall loose at any second.

Without thinking, she ducked, spun around and used her leg to trip Geralt onto his back. She breathed heavily as she towered over him as he lay on his back, dust clouds settling around his figure. He looked up at her in surprise, rubbing the back of his head.

“Who said anything about love?” Her voice rang clear in the silence of her victory. The two stared at each other for a moment, Juniper’s gaze never softening, but Geralt looked up at her tenderly as the weight of her words sunk in. Her eyelids fluttered as she looked away from Geralt and to Jaskier. “We’re done for today.” With that, she spun on her boot and marched toward her garden shed, her sword in one hand and her shovel in other. She walked away, putting distance between her, the Witcher on the ground, and Jaskier clapping triumphantly under the willow tree.

“ _Encore!”_ The bard shouted. If combat was filled with that much sexual tension, he might find himself quite good at it.

Geralt jumped to his feet, gravel coating his backside, his fists clenched at his sides. “Just walk away June,” he spat. “It’s what you do best!”

Juniper stopped in her tracks but didn’t look back. Her ears rang with the absence of Jaskier’s applause. Heat crept up her neck and her heartbeat was the only sound echoing in her ears. Just as fast as she stopped walking, she started again. She ground her teeth together, the muscle in her jaw flexing. She flung open the door to her garden shed and threw her tools to the ground. Her hands gripped her worktable as she rocked on her heels. She hunched forward, cradling her head in her hands and stood like that, unable to form a coherent thought as anger coursed through her veins.

"Now that wasn't very nice," Jaskier said to Geralt who turned to the bard and sighed knowing he was right. 

The sound of the door creaking open behind her startled her for a moment as it broke her concentration. She turned to see Geralt’s towering silhouette backlit by the evening light. He had to turn sideways for his broad shoulders to fit through the doorway and to step into the shed.

Juniper rolled her eyes, dropping her hands at her sides. “What do you want, Geralt?” Her voice sounded defeated. The hard work of the day hit her all at once and she was suddenly unbearably exhausted. From her argument and inevitable break-up with Triss that morning to her back-breaking work in the garden to the combat lesson, and now this.

Geralt made his way towards Juniper, ducking his head to avoid hitting the wooden beams on the ceiling. It was dark and cool in the shed. The faint light at the other end of the shed coming in from the greenhouse made it difficult to see, but Geralt’s eyes quickly adjusted. He took in the state of the woman in front of him, her small frame and muscular shoulders screamed exhaustion from her golden hair falling from her hair tie and frizzing in all different directions— _much like his own—_ her rosy cheeks smeared with mud, her buttoned shirt askew on her torso, the hole in her pants revealing a scraped and bloody knee, to the missing lace on her boots.

“I’m sorry, June, about what I said.” Geralt said quietly, looking at anything but Juniper.

She sighed. “Don’t be sorry. You’re right. Running away is the only thing I’m good at.”

“That’s not—” He started, but Juniper interrupted him.

“Did you even try looking for me?” Her voice was a whisper, she looked up at Geralt trying to read him, but it was impossible.

Juniper’s greatest fear was to be alone, to be perpetually by herself. But she set herself up for a lifetime of loneliness because she was always, _always_ pushing people away, out of her life. Eventually, she knew they would be gone; they would leave or they would die. The thought of her own company made her skin crawl, but it was easier, she avoided being hurt by staying alone, yet she was always seeking companionship. Juniper was stuck in the perpetual cycle of wanting the presence of another and trying to run away from them.

His features softened; he took one step forward. “Of course I did. I looked every day. I never stopped.”

Juniper opened her mouth to speak, but wasn’t sure what to say. Geralt took another step forward, he was close now, their belt buckles dangerously close. Juniper backed up but collided with the table behind her. “I don’t know if I was more afraid of never seeing you again, or what would happen if I did.” She spoke quietly. She knew that Geralt could hear her heart pounding in her chest, she was absolutely vibrating with nervous energy. For a moment, she didn’t understand why she shared something so vulnerable with him, but then she remembered the bond they shared. But this time, she wasn’t so furious about it.

Geralt took one last step towards Juniper, pressing himself against her and pinning her against the table. He cradled her head in his right hand, and gently ran his thumb over her lips. He leaned in, their noses touching. Juniper looked into his eyes, searching them. His fingers tangled into the loose hair at the back of her neck, his thumb grazing her throat. Juniper shuddered.

“What are you afraid of?”

Juniper drew in a breath. “This,” she breathed.

Just like that, their mouths met and Geralt’s strong hands were holding Juniper’s head with a gentle ferocity as he let out a satisfied sigh between kisses. Juniper’s hands grabbed fistfuls of his shirt in an attempt to bring him as close as she could. She slipped a hand underneath his shirt and dug her fingertips into his back, he moaned and grabbed a fistful of her hair and tugged, exposing her throat. His mouth was sloppy but intentional on her neck, then he licked at her jaw, tasting the salt of her skin as he did. He gripped onto her sides and lifted her onto the table, pushing her legs apart, gripping her knees and pulling her to him. She nearly fell off the table, she laughed as she caught herself.

Geralt smiled against her mouth and kissed her once, quickly, his hands pulling apart the buttons on her shirt revealing her bare breasts. They stopped for a moment and stared at each other.

“I’ve been waiting four years for this.” He breathed, kissing her chest. He cupped one breast in his hand, while his mouth found the other, his tongue flicked against her nipple quickly and he held it between his teeth gently. Juniper tossed her head back in pleasure, she was sure the tattoos on her body were coming alive.

Her hands found Geralt’s belt and she tugged, when she fumbled with the buckle, Geralt took a step back and unbuckled it himself, looking at her with a devious hunger in his eyes. Just as he was about to undo his pants, he stopped at the sound of the door creaking open. They froze, staring at each other. Juniper hopped down and wrapped her shirt around herself, crossing her arms. Geralt turned his back to the door and fastened his belt regretfully, he reached in his pants and adjusted himself, so he was less conspicuous about how hard he was.

The stranger who had interrupted Juniper and Geralt was whistling, seemingly unaware of what they had almost walked in on. Juniper laughed to herself and looked to Geralt who was smiling too. She was about to leave, but she stopped when Geralt’s hand shot out and grabbed her elbow.

“I’m not finished with you.” He said under his breath, his gaze smoldering as they left the shed together. Juniper pursed her lips slightly and elbowed his side.

The sun had set completely and the light from the full moon bathed the willow tree in a blue hue, the stars twinkling above Geralt and Juniper as they walked through the garden, one in front of the other coming down from their lust-filled high and settling into a calm satisfaction similar to the feeling you might get when the two puzzle pieces you had been looking for had finally come together.


	10. A Cruel Reminder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Juniper are finally *reunited*

The dew droplets on the grass sparkled with the rising sun, and it began to soak through the bottom of Juniper’s pants where she sat cross-legged next to Jaskier. 

They sat almost knee-to-knee, but not touching. They breathed in together and they breathed out together, their shoulders rising and falling in sync. Juniper shivered as the cool morning air brushed against her bare skin, goosebumps rippled across her arms, her hair standing on end. The quick chill from the breeze was almost instantly replaced by warmth spreading across her like a blanket as the sun completely revealed itself in the sky, blazing hot. 

She inhaled.

She exhaled. 

Juniper tilted her head up to the sky, the sun starting to peak through the morning mist. In the distance, she thought she heard the chirp of a bird, but she knew that mustn’t be true because birds hadn’t existed since Nilfgaard started using drones. She distinctly remembered meeting dead birds on the ground, innocent bystanders that had been struck by drones.

She felt the tiniest breeze flutter passed her hand, and then she felt a weight touch down. She looked and thought she might be hallucinating because a goldfinch was sitting right before her, touching her, his head twitching as he looked around at his surroundings. Juniper dared not to breathe; she couldn’t believe her eyes. The goldfinch was staring right at her and she stared right back, afraid to blink or he might disappear. Just as quickly as he had appeared, he disappeared, a tiny yellow speck flying towards the willow tree. Juniper shivered, thinking again of her sister. 

The clock tower in Myanmag struck six o’clock, its bells telling her it was time to start to the day, but the _tick, tick, tick_ shook her to her bones, a not-so gentle reminder that the clock was ticking, time was slipping through her fingers. Each second, she felt her sister being pulled further and further from her. It was starting to feel like she might never reach her. 

_Tick._

_Tick._

_Tick._

She shivered. 

“Shall we get started, Junie?”

Juniper blinked herself back to the present, back to where she was practicing her breathing with Jaskier. They met every morning before sunrise to meditate before practicing his combat training. Sometimes Geralt would join them, other times it was just the two of them. Jaskier practiced with both Geralt and Juniper so he could get a feel for different body types. 

Juniper could see his improvement and along with that, his confidence. She realized that she liked teaching, and for these moments of her day, she felt happy. She found happiness in the simplicity of combat training, much like she did with her garden. For some fleeting moments, she felt like everything was right and okay in the world. She had her friends who had become family at Myanmag, she had Jaskier, she had Geralt. But late at night or in the middle of the day or at breakfast or in the bath, she was reminded that there was something missing, _someone_ missing. Someone who had been missing for far too long—her sister, Ciri. When she was cruelly reminded of her absence, it felt like she couldn’t breathe, like the weight of the world came down on her all at once. 

She choked down her heartache for her sister, turned to her newfound friend and smiled, and was met with a smile in return. “Let’s.”

\-----------------------------------------------------

  
By the end of the day, Juniper had to practically drag her body to her bedroom. She had dove headfirst into her work that day, from meditating at dawn and combat training with Jaskier to working and harvesting in her garden to helping Triss craft various elixirs for their stock. Despite the hard work, she was grateful for it because she hadn’t thought about her sister all day, and when the thought of Ciri being locked up by Nilfgaard crept to the front of her mind, she shoved it to the back with another backbreaking chore. 

Many people questioned Juniper, asking, “But Juniper, you’re a mage, why don’t you use your skills to do the work for you?” She would laugh it off and say she had to keep her figure somehow, but the reality was that it really did help her keep her figure in the way that it kept her from falling apart. 

She leaned her forehead against the rough wood of her bedroom door, her hand on the crystal doorknob. When she felt like she had bottled up her heartache just enough to keep herself breathing, she opened the door. The air in her bedroom was fresh and cool, and she appreciated it. She shuffled to the bar-cart near the fireplace and poured herself a drink and tossed it back then poured herself another. She let her body fall onto the couch and she shut her eyes briefly, her last waking thought about the goldfinch from the morning. She felt bothered at the memory, something was wrong with the bird. She remembered now his eye—red and blinking. _How strange._

Juniper must have dozed off because the room was slightly darker when she awoke to the sound of her shower running. She stood up, her foot stepping in the drink she spilled when she fell asleep. The sound of the shower reminded her that she herself could do with a bath, and this idea was confirmed when she saw the dirt caked underneath her fingernails. 

She turned the crystal doorknobs of the double-sided white marble door that led into her bathroom with curiosity because someone had to have gone through her bedroom to get to the shower. The room was aglow with candlelight and smelled— _the smell_ —was heavenly, cedar and eucalyptus. She suddenly felt drunk despite having only had one drink.

She stopped at the other end of the room to find Geralt standing in the shower, his back facing her. She admired the water running down his strong shoulders to his thick legs. He was running his fingers through his white hair, soaking each strand. She watched him raise his chin to the ceiling, the water running over his face. Silently, she took off her clothes and left them folded on the counter. Juniper knew that Geralt was aware of her presence, but he didn’t make it known. She stepped into the glass shower, it was the size of a small bedroom and was wall-to-wall deep emerald stone, a gold shower head descended from the ceiling. The steam enveloped her like a warm hug. She stepped towards Geralt and pressed her body against his back, wrapping her arms around him. Hugging him felt like hugging a living statue. 

“Is this okay?” She asked. 

He turned around in her arms, his face tender. His hand touched her cheek and he brushed back her wet, golden hair; he could feel warmth spread through his body. He had never been more okay. Juniper did that to him, and he didn’t know if he liked it or not. How curious these two; both individuals so afraid of the other but unable to stay away. He counted every droplet of water on her dark lashes, her eyes pools of black as she gazed up at him. _What is she thinking?_

Almost as if she could hear his thoughts, she looked away, burying her face in his chest before her face could give away her thoughts. He tightened his arms around her. For a moment, they stood silently, bodies pressed together with the water running over them silently. 

Juniper looked up at him again after some time, eyes drowsy, yet mischievous. “Let’s finish what we started.”

He looked at her quizzically, then remembered how they were interrupted in the garden shed yesterday. Devious smiles spread across their faces simultaneously, but their gazes softened the longer they looked at each other. They leaned in close to each other, their lips just grazing each other’s—just a taste. They kissed each other softly at first, their arms instinctively closing tighter around each other as their kisses grew deeper. Geralt brought his hand up to Juniper’s cheek and held it gently, his fingers tangled in the hair at the base of her neck. Her hand rested gently on his neck, leaving goosebumps as she ran her fingers down his shoulder and left it gripping his forearm. He reached to turn off the water and they stood dripping, staring at each other, the electricity between them practically visible. 

Geralt reached for her, his hand gripping her sides as he lifted her up, her legs wrapping around him. They laughed together as she clung to him, struggling as she did so due to his wet skin. She left kisses on his neck and gently held his ear between her teeth for a moment. He laid her down on the bed and stood over her, both of them reminiscing to their first time together. Except this time, Geralt admired the tattoos on her body, his hand reaching out to touch the hummingbird on her hip; it came to life beneath his fingertips, wings flitting wildly, his eyes widened in awe. He drew his fingertips up toward the owl’s feather—for wisdom—on the inside of her forearm and it beat as if the owl was actually there, he swore he could feel a breeze. Juniper watched him intently, watched how he perceived her body. Though he didn’t say it, he thought; no, he knew he was looking at the most beautiful piece of art he’d ever seen. 

He leaned down and kissed her thighs, her belly button, her chest. He hovered over her and she wrapped her legs around him, bringing him in closer. She pushed her head back into her bed, shutting her eyes to the world and let herself fall into the moment, where Geralt’s mouth was working down her neck to her collarbone, his hands gently caressing her breasts. 

Instinctively, she dug her fingers into his back when he pinched her nipple. Her eyes flashed open and she was met face-to-face with Geralt, eyes ablaze. Without looking away, he reached down and pushed himself inside of her and she gasped. They kept their eyes locked as their bodies moved together. Juniper thought Geralt was close to finishing when he buried his face in the crook of her neck, grunting with each thrust. But instead, he sat back and lifted her into his lap as he did. She held onto him; her arms wrapped around his neck. She kissed his neck and then held his face close to her own. She bit her lip, stopping herself from crying out as she felt bruises start to form where Geralt gripped onto her hips, his hands too strong. 

Geralt couldn’t get close enough to her after having spent so many years apart. He was brought back to reality as he felt a tear roll down his cheek. He was mad at himself but mostly confused. _Who cries during sex?_ He shoved his feelings down and let his mind escape to how glorious it felt to be in Juniper. He watched her toss her head back in ecstasy and her breasts bounce with each quick thrust. His mouth fell open and he squeezed his eyes shut as he finished. He fell forward with Juniper in his arms and rested his head next to hers as he laid between his legs, shivering as she ran her fingers through his hair. He kissed her shoulder, breathing her in. 

Almost asleep, he brought his head up. “I almost forgot.” Juniper met his statement with a confused stare. He removed himself from the entanglement of her limbs and walked over to his pants where he picked them up to find a small gift in his pocket. 

In the short time he was gone, Juniper had fallen asleep. He watched her chest rise and fall slowly, her eyes fluttering under their lids. On her bedside table, Geralt set down his gift: a small, handmade wooden figure of a wolf. He had carved it from a Juniper tree. Slowly, as to not wake her, he pulled up the sheet on her body and got in bed beside her, watching her as she slept. His love for her flooded his chest.

Now there were two wolves to watch over her. 


End file.
